


Three's a team

by Anonymous



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Multi, Plot What Plot, Threesome, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 12:46:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint loves this. Nat's not crazy about it. Their boss drops in to give his input.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three's a team

**Author's Note:**

> Person A is pinned to the wall by person B and fucked within an inch of their life and loves it. A person C, if you can fit them in (idk, coming upon wall sex already in progress and dirty talking to the other two about it? sloppy seconds? I'm really not picky) is totally welcome and in fact encouraged.

Clint loved this. Nat wasn't crazy about it, but he'd do whatever she wanted after, and honestly, this was the perfect spot for it. Instead of paper, there was something like padded satin, all around the room.  
  
It was the most beautiful wall Clint had ever seen.  
  
"This had better be good," Nat panted, eyes closed. She was balanced on one foot, the other leg draped over Clint's shoulder as he knelt before her, head tilted up, mouth buried between her legs.  
  
"Mmmm, hhmmmmf," he grunted and she squealed and pressed her shoulders back against the wall. He could see her sinking her nails into the wall covering on either side of her and he thrust harder with his tongue and felt her come.  
  
Once her hands flexed and relaxed at her sides, Clint pulled off and grinned up at her.  
  
"What do you think? Was it good? I can do that some more if you need more data."  
  
"Oh, shut up, Barton," she panted, but she was grinning as well as she yanked on his spiky hair. "Your turn, get up here."  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
Clint stood and dug a condom packet out of his pocket, then stripped off his pants and shorts and kicked them aside.  
  
"Didn't I tell you?" he murmured, nibbling at her neck as he applied the prophylactic. "Padded walls. Nothing but the best for you, sweetheart. How's it feel?"  
  
"I'll let you know in a minute," she replied. "When you're pounding the fuck out of me up against it."  
  
Clint groaned and bent his knees a bit, drawing her leg up, spreading her open with his fingers.   
  
"Ooh, slippery when wet," he smirked. Nat reached up and smacked the back of his head and in return he slid into her all the way and pinned her there, one hand gripping her thigh, the other braced against the wall.  
  
"All right there?" he asked, not joking, and she nodded and grabbed hold of his shoulders.  
  
"Go," she said, and he did, not too slowly because even as athletic as they both were, this took a lot of effort.  
  
Clint was settling into a good hard tempo when the door handle rattled, only twelve feet away, around a corner to Clint's left. He stilled and stared at Nat. The handle rattled again, then there was a click and the lock disengaged.  
  
"Who the hell - " he hissed. Nat clapped a hand over his mouth; she was grinning an evil grin as the door opened, someone entered the room and locked the door behind them.  
  
"Barton," said the voice behind him. "Romanov."  
  
"Sir," Clint panted. He wanted to withdraw but felt it would be even more awkward to face his boss in his half-fucked state. "How did you - um, I mean - what are you - "  
  
"Agent Romanov gave me a key card." There was movement; he could hear Coulson going into the bathroom, coming back out, shoes being kicked off. All this, however, was secondary in importance to the glare Clint was giving Natasha.  
  
"Nat, what the fuck?"  
  
"Just go with it," she purred. "Meanwhile, ouch. You gonna finish nailing me or what?"  
  
Fine, thought Clint. He'd done this under worse circumstances. He lunged up into Nat, fastening his mouth on hers, feeling her nipples rolling against his bare chest.  
  
He was still trying to get back in a rhythm when he felt Coulson's hands on his shoulders. This time he didn't stop thrusting, but ground out, "Be right with you, sir."  
  
"Don't mind me." Coulson's breath was warm on Clint's neck and his hands, oh God, his hands were sliding down, over his back, all the way to his ass. He gave Clint an experimental rub and when the latter moaned into Nat's neck, a not-so-experimental squeeze.  
  
Then he heard a belt buckle coming undone, felt clothing being pushed out of the way, along the backs of his thighs, and a firm pressure against, almost between, his buttocks.  
  
"Oh, fuck," Clint gasped. There was no way out now, not without injuring somebody, with his dick buried in Nat and Coulson's dick rubbing against his butt.   
  
"Maybe later," Coulson said in a tone far too sultry from a man who was still partly clothed. "I doubt you've been sufficiently prepared."  
  
That statement encompassed so many possible interpretations that Clint's brain gave up on it. At any rate, he kept after Nat, kissing and licking anything he could reach and shifting to get the best angle...  
  
Coulson had apparently found the bottle of lube Nat had brought, in the bathroom, and he was now slathering the cleft between his cheeks with it. Quickly he brought his cock forward, to sink into that cleft, not going in but sliding up and down the tight, slick valley.  
  
"Agent Romanov," said Clint, rather breathlessly. "Knees up, please."  
  
And damned if Nat didn't obey orders, pulling her knees up and extending her feet out. Clint felt her gain leverage at once and realized she had her feet braced against Coulson's thighs.  
  
"All together, now," she commanded, and Clint pumped into her with renewed vigor, jerking back against Coulson's iron shaft, forward again into Nat's heat. Coulson was a solid weight against Clint's back, and eventually he and Clint got into the same rhythm, both of them thrusting forward at once into Nat's willing body.  
  
"Don't," Coulson gasped in Clint's ear. "Don't come until she does, Barton. That's an order."  
  
Clint felt a hand, not Nat's slim fingers, snake around from behind him, wedging between Clint's hips and Nat's mound, and she rolled her head from side to side and bucked against the hand and Clint's cock, and that better have done it because he was coming now, no stopping it -   
  
\- and the hand pulled out and grabbed his hip as he ground into Nat and Coulson ground into his ass and came, liquid heat spilling over and between their skin and trickling down Clint's spine.  
  
Clint felt his knees starting to buckle and he heard Nat say, "Phil - "  
  
"I've got him," said the man behind him. He wrapped his arms around Clint and pulled him off Nat, half-carried him over to the bed and dropped him on it, face up, sheathed dick slumped over his thigh. Nat flung herself down next to the archer, laughing, and their boss stood there in his button-down and tie and nothing else and grinned at them both.  
  
"You guys," Clint panted. "You're going to kill me, one of these days. Whose idea was that?"  
  
"Oh, it was a joint effort," said Phil, divesting himself of the rest of his clothes. He sat on the bed, looking smug. "Team building and all that."  
  
"Phil. Please tell me you're not going to use this, um, exercise, in training the rest of them," said Clint, meaning the ragtag bunch of lunatics whose team he was part of.  
  
"No," Phil assured him. "But I think you and Agent Romanov could benefit from a few more - sessions."  
  
"There's always room for improvement," Clint agreed. "Sir."


End file.
